Scattered Petals
by Neko Alice-chan
Summary: This is a story about two sisters, a father, abuse, and the loss of a love one....This is my story." T for abuse and character death.


**This is just me editing a story I wrote for language arts so it fits Shugo Chara. Why? Cuz I'm bored and have a bad case of writer's block.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Shugo Chara or any of the characters, but I own the plot line and most of the words; it was just edited from the real version.**

**Enjoy.**

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The story you are about to hear is not a happy one, filled with friends and love, with fluffy bunnies and shimmering rainbows. It is much sadder, darker. It's the story of two sisters, a father, abuse, and a loved one's death. You may think I'm telling you one of a billion touchy-feely sob stories that you hear on the news so often. Maybe you're right, maybe it is one, but I'm not telling it for pity, or for fame, but because people need to hear it.

My name is Hinamori Ami, and this is my story.

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I was born into a normal enough family; I had an honest, hard-working father, a kind, stay-at-home mother, and my older sister.

My father was a police chief, so my sister Amu and I never imagined things would turn out the way they did.

When I was five and Amu was seven, our parents got divorced. We both ended up in the care of our father, visiting our mother once every summer. The summer after I turned nine, our mother died in a car crash.

Neither Amu or I knew the specifics, and dad clearly didn't want to talk about our mother—he had a friend take us to the funeral. After we came back, we didn't mention Hinamori Midori—our mother—again.

Or, at least, that's what I should have done. Two months later, tired of hearing "I don't know, Ami!" One too many times, I was stupid enough to blurt out during dinner one night, "Why did mom die?"

I had hoped dad wouldn't mind me asking that, that he'd calmly reassure me that "It was for the best" or something cheesy along those lines. I couldn't have been more wrong.

My father exploded into a fit of rage I'll never forget. Everything happened so fast it was confusing. My father stood up, and yanked on one of my pigtails, yelling in my ear something I couldn't understand.

The force pulling my hair stopped, and I turned to see dad gripping Amu's pretty pink hair in one hand, grasping her arm roughly in the other. I didn't know what was going on. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't find my breath.

Everything was loud, but silent at the same time. Reality of the hardest kind and a story gone horribly wrong. All I could really grasp was that dad was dangerous and Amu was yelling at me to run.

So I did. I took to my heels and fled the room. I thought about running away, running for help, but I couldn't leave Amu behind. So I hid myself under the desk in the living room, the one where dad and Amu and me did our homework and projects and things.

I curled into a ball, my hands grasping my hair, and rocked back and forth, telling myself over and over that it was just a dream.

But I didn't convince myself for a second. Our house was small, and even though I was at the other end of the house, I could still hear the noises. I heard it all—the yelling, the screaming, the banging, the tinkling of glass. I have no clue how long it lasted.

After the noise finally stopped, and dad's angry footsteps faded away to nothing, I waited for Amu's soft, gentle footsteps to come and search for me, so she could tell me it was all right.

Nothing.

I crawled out from my hiding place, and crept as quietly as I could back to the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was that the analog clock on the blue wall next to the kitchen read 12:39.

Past midnight.

The door was cracked open. Without thinking, I opened the door a tiny bit more so I could see if Amu was still there. I regretted it instantly.

Glittering on the floor was red-stained glass, blood coating the shards and the floor around it. My knees went weak. I managed to close the door enough so I couldn't see the mess, then started counting to ten.

I didn't even reach seven.

I dashed upstairs, as quick as I could without making much noise, and opened the door to the room Amu and I shared. I could just make out a figure on her bed, piled beneath the blankets. I released the breath I was holding as I saw it rise and fall. She was alive. Thank God.

I softly stepped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. "Sis?" I called quietly in barely a whisper.

No answer.

"Sis?" I called again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

I wanted to shake her, to cry, to scream at her to tell me she was alright, that dad didn't hurt her, that it was all a misunderstanding, that it was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that I would forget by morning.

But I didn't. Instead, I walked to my bed and crawled under the sheets, not caring that I was still fully dressed.

I pretended that oneechan was asleep, dreaming about our old dog Pochi, our mom and dad and chocolate pudding and me. She said it was her favorite dream, with all her favorite things. I often teased her about Ikuto, her crush, and his place in the dream, and we'd get in a big fight and end up laughing by three.

I started to cry, scared that I was wrong, scared that oneechan was hurt, scared I wouldn't wake up. Somewhere down that train of thought, I lost consciousness.

----

It was like that for weeks. The worst part is, we'd never know when. It was terrifying, hearing him come home late and not know whether or not he was in a good or bad mood; the fear seemed to consume us when we heard the front door open or the clock strike eight.

All Amu and I could do was get rid of all the glass and metal, hide all the tools and cleaning fluids, and anything else that would be anymore painful than it had to be.

What bugged me the most was the make-up, since we were too scared to tell someone, in fear he'd snap again. The make-up would itch and smear, but sis helped me keep it on, and it soon stopped bugging me. Things soon got worse, though.

I lied in bed, staring up at the ceiling in my purple pajamas. "Oneechan?" I called to Amu quietly.

"Yeah, Ami?" she asked me. "Why does dad hurt us?" I asked her. "…I think….. he's upset about something." She answered carefully, most likely not trying to upset me.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, hoping she could hear the "no, duh" in my tone. Amu sighed. "I think dad might…. have a drug problem, or drinking problem or something." She said quietly, as if it was blasphemy.

"Oh." I answered simply, not knowing how to react. I didn't really understand what she meant, but it sounded bad.

"You _do_ know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah. 'Course I do." I lied. Oneechan sighed again. "Night." She said, rolling over. I yawned. "Night." We didn't talk after that. We remained silent until sleep took us.

---

The next day went along like usual. Sis and I got ready for school, ate breakfast and left together. When it was time to go home, we rode the afternoon bus to our stop and walked the rest of the way. When we got inside, we watched whatever was on T.V. while we snacked.

At half an hour til seven, Amu started to fix dinner. When dad pulled into the driveway, Amu faced me abruptly. "Go upstairs and pretend your sleeping." She told me. I blinked. "Why?"

"Just go, Ami!!" The firm tone in her voice left no room for argument. I quickly obeyed, dashing up the stairs, entering our room and hid under the covers. The silence was agonizing. I thought back to Amu's pale face and firm tone. She never was that hard, that pressing; not unless something bad was going to happen.

Was dad angry? Was that why she told me to go upstairs? But it didn't make sense. Did she see something that she wanted to protect me from? Was that it?

My train of thought was broken by the silence. Wouldn't they be arguing by now? I heard a small clink of metal. Curiosity got the best of me, and I crept into the hall, keeping low so oneechan and dad wouldn't see me. Something silver was in dad's hand. He pointed it at something.

A deafening crack filled the house as I saw its target—Amu.

Amu, oneechan, meanie, jerk, sis, stupid—everything I had ever called her came flooding back to me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I let them fall soundlessly. _She's not gonna wake up, is she?_

The question remained unanswered.

As he smoke alarm sounded, I realized the house was on fire. That, and dad was gone. I ran downstairs, searching desperately for some means of communication. There, on the kitchen counter, dad had left his cell phone. I snatched it up and ran over to sis.

I tried to drag her to the living room, away from the fire; I couldn't manage it. I dropped her cold arm and quickly punched in the three numbers I never wanted to use.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" A female voice asked. "My house is on fire and me and my sis are stuck in it!!" I screamed into the phone. I heard tapping on the other line.

"A fire team is on their way. Are there any exits near you?" She asked. I looked around. "The back door, but sis won't wake up!" I yelled. "Try to wake her up or get her through the exit."

I don't know _why_ she was so calm. My house was on fire and sis wasn't showing any signs of….no, don't think that, I told myself.

I took a deep breath through my sleeve to calm myself, and put the phone down. I bent down to grab sis's arm again, but a man in a big yellow suit cam inside.

I looked past him wide-eyed as he started asking me hurried questions I couldn't hear. I was too busy watching the wall behind him burst into flame. He grabbed me and somehow got me outside, away from the house.

"No! Amu! Oneechan! Don't forget oneechan!" I screamed when I regained the ability to think again. "You're sister's in there?!" A firefighter asked, shocked. All I could manage was a nod. Not a second later he charged into the house. I hoped he could get her.

What seemed like millennium later, he came out supported by another firefighter. I looked at him. He shook his head, which hung low in regret.

My eyes watered. It all clicked. The answer to my silent question popped into my head. No. No, she's not. I burst into tears and allowed myself to break down. Concerned voices sounded o all sides of me.

I was passed from person to person, all who were trying to comfort and reassure the crying girl before them. All I could remember was the cool, leather seats of a car, with only one thing running through my mind.

_Amu is gone._

**Yes, Amu died. That's how the story went. Why? Cuz I'm good at angst and tragedy stuff. The big sister died. I might just do some extra stuff in Amu's POV, if I feel like it and have any ideas.**

**Ja ne.**

**~Neko Alice-chan**


End file.
